Now
by Paris in December
Summary: Ziva is upset that she keeps being compared to Kate. Spoilers in Season 3. Set after or during "Switch."


**Author's Note:** Vague spoilers for "Kill Ari," "Silver War," and "Switch." NCIS is one of my newer fandoms, but this is not my first time writing for it and certainly not my first time writing Ziva.

* * *

Now that she's here, Ziva doesn't really know what to do.

The decision to come to NCIS (the second time, not the first time, that was different, with Ari – she trusted him then) was not a difficult one at the time she made it. Gibbs and his team seemed like good people.

Now – well, they are still good people, Ziva is sure, but she doesn't think they want her to join them, to be part of their team. Even Gibbs seems suspicious of her, which doesn't make sense, because he trusted her enough to kill her own _half-brother­ _for goodness' sake.

She's confronted him not once but twice, both times in the elevator, which is a particularly odd place to have a conversation – she doesn't like it.

She still doesn't think he understands.

When Ziva confronts him the third time, she intends to do it in front of everyone, in the middle of the office. By the time she convinces herself to go ahead with it, she and Gibbs are the only ones left, so it's not the effect she was hoping for.

"This is ridiculous," she tells him, standing in front of his desk and folding her arms.

He just looks up at her with that unreadable expression and that infuriating silence, so she continues.

"I have been trying my best to work with your people. I have done everything your way, tried to be friendly and helpful – and yet you still look at me as though I am an outsider." She knows she's ranting at him by the time she finishes that sentence, but by now it's too late to stop herself. "Yes, I am Israeli. Should that really make so much of a difference? Or are you all still so upset over the loss of this _Kate_ person that you cannot be bothered to see me as a separate empathy?"

Gibbs raises both eyebrows at her. For a moment she thinks he's not going to respond. When he does, it's not exactly what she's expecting.

"I think you mean entity, Ziva."

She blinks. "What?"

"Separate entity, not empathy." He smiles when she opens and closes her mouth in astonishment (how can he be correcting her English when she's trying to make a point?). "You sound bitter," he adds, almost as an afterthought.

Ziva opens and closes her mouth again. She feels like a fish out of water, if that is indeed the correct expression. "Yes," she says at last, carefully. "I never met Kate. But the way you and your people talk about her almost constantly is enough to make me… annoyed."

"It's normal to grieve," Gibbs points out.

"Reminding me over and over again that I am not Kate and will never compare to her is not grieving!" Ziva frowns at him. "As I said, I would _prefer_ to be treated as a separate – entity. I am Ziva, not… not-Kate."

Gibbs hesitates before standing up. She can see it in the way he places his hands on his desk but waits before rising. When he walks around his desk, she faces him, almost defiantly, because she's fairly certain she's about to get another lecture.

"I would never call you _not-Kate_," he says.

"DiNozzo did. Not to my face," Ziva replies. "He was talking to Abby. I have been trying to make friends with Abby and I do not think that helps."

"I'll talk to DiNozzo," says Gibbs, "but I think what you need to do is just be patient. People deal with grief in different ways. In some cases, that means being tactless, or even rude." He smiles ruefully. "And in DiNozzo's case, he's tactless a lot of the time, not just when he's grieving. You may as well start getting used to it now."

Ziva is silent. What is she supposed to say to that?

Gibbs's smile turns crooked. He reaches out and pats her on the shoulder, almost congenially. "We're not like the people you're used to working with. The present's different from the past. You'll learn to live with it." Then he walks out, leaving her standing there with her mouth half open in astonishment.


End file.
